Abyss
by SpacesInMyMind
Summary: Sweat and elbow grease never did anyone any harm, right? Ernie Macmillan would tell you otherwise. Written for the QLFC Round 6. Thank you to my wonderful BETAs, Kuro, Sanchita and Rowan!


QLFC Round 6

Kenmare Kestrels

Beater 2

Prompt: Write about a light character committing the sin of pride (I chose Ernie Macmillan)

Optional Prompts: 1) swear jar, 3) favour, 11) risk

BETAs: Queen Bookworm the First (Sanchita), kuroaiko2014 (Kuro), RainyDaysAndGoodBooks (Rowan)

Word Count: 1589

...

With trembling hands Ernie lifted the professional-looking parcel from the owl and raised the envelope to the light. Emerald ink shone in the midday sun, neatly curled script lettering his initials across the thick paper. Ernie gulped loudly as he turned the envelope over and picked at the seal with a nail halfheartedly.

He had been anticipating O.W.L. results since the moment he stepped out of the exam room, but now that he had received the fruit of his labors his stomach was writhing with nerves. Surely the eight hours of studying each day were good enough! Ernie had worked his brains to mush reviewing and quizzing during every second of free time he had. All of his labor couldn't go to waste!

 _Could it?_

A dreadful thought crossed his mind as the owl preened on the windowsill, presumably waiting for Ernie to pay its fare. What if he failed all of his exams? Every single class with a woeful 'T' next to it? He shuddered, hands shaking so much he nearly dropped the envelope. The Defense Against the Dark Arts exam had been a joke, and the practical seemed to go well at the time, but with the benefit of hindsight…

"Ernie! Is that an owl I hear?"

Melania Macmillan bustled down the stairs, an apron cinched around her waist and a flustered expression on her face. "I just put the tarts in, mind they don't burn. We need to celebrate our little boy's special day!"

"Mum!" Ernie grumbled, ducking under his mother's arm and holding the envelope out of her reach. "It's just the bloody O.W.L. results, that's all!"

Mrs. Macmillan's features twisted in a frown, but her shining eyes gave away her good mood. "Don't use that language with me, young man! I'll have to bring back the swear jar again."

Rolling his eyes, Ernie removed the seal from the envelope slowly. The ink seemed to have a Permanent Sticking charm to the letter, only heightening his impatience. Mrs. Macmillan's occasional squeals and excited dances didn't help much, either.

"Oh, you've worked so hard for this, dear!" she cheered, making an attempt to pinch his cheek. Ernie dodged swiftly out of the way. "I remember the owls you used to send me… Studying into the night... I think one of them even had tear stains on it…"

" _Mum!"_

Mrs. Macmillan winked at him. "Never let it be said I don't know when I'm not wanted. I'll go check on the tarts. Raspberry—your favorite!"

Ernie feigned a smile as she hurried back to the kitchen, hands beginning to shake again. If anything, his mother was right about all of the work he had put into his exams. After all this time he was certainly going to get excellent marks. This affirmation did little to stifle his worry, though.

Carefully Ernie extracted a single sheet of thick, creamy paper from the envelope, sweat pooling on his palms. He almost didn't dare to look when his grades emerged, bracing himself for the worst…

 **...**

The apothecary's shop was incredibly crowded, stuffed with bustling bodies and eager students. The foul scent of rotting newt tails and body odor made the store almost insufferable, but Ernie was too excited to pay attention to the smell. His eyes wandered over the barrels of hinkypunk liver and toad spawn. Strands of fine unicorn hair dangled from the ceiling, protected by a thick layer of wards and charms to keep away any burglars. Dragon scales gleamed like diamonds and crystals in one display, each twenty Galleons apiece.

With a hint of swagger, Ernie wandered over to the apothecary's counter, where a young-looking witch busied herself with bagging items and measuring out piles of strange-looking powder that gleamed in the half-light. Her eyes met Ernie's and he smiled, chest puffing out.

"I'd like to order N.E.W.T level potion ingredients, please." His voice carried a little louder than he wished. The girl flushed crimson and dove under the counter, bustling about with objects unseen.

"You passed the Potions O.W.L.?" she asked conversationally when she emerged, measuring out a large pile of beetle wings. "That's quite an impressive feat. You're the first sixth year I've seen come for N.E.W.T. ingredients." She met Ernie's eyes again and her blush deepened.

Puffing out his chest even more, Ernie fixed a wide grin on his face. "Well, you know, it wasn't so good." He lowered his head in an imitation of shame. "Only an 'E.'"

"You got an 'E'?" The girl's jaw dropped. Ernie raised his head and felt a burst of pleasure. "That's incredible! I hear that Professor Snape's grading has only grown harsher since I was at Hogwarts. If that's so, you must be a right genius!"

Ernie smiled again, this time more genuinely. "Really? A genius?"

The girl giggled as she bagged a large bottle of wormwood essence. "Oh, absolutely!"

"Is this worm bothering you, Nessa?" a drawling voice said behind Ernie, and he turned to see no one other than Draco Malfoy perched behind him. The Slytherin was leaning against a pile of whale vertebrae, arms folded confidently.

"Oh, Draco…" The girl's blush receded in an instant to a blanch and she busied herself with the scales again, fiddling with the weights. "He was just buying potion supplies for next year."

Draco's lips tilted to a sneer and he stalked closer to Ernie, eyes cold with malice. "Nessa, don't you agree pure blood doesn't mean much anymore? Take Macmillan here: he couldn't tell you what side of a sword is the sharp one, and _both_ of the sides are sharp. I don't expect to be seeing him in class next year. "

Ernie bristled and reached for his wand, attempting feebly to ignore Draco's cruel remarks. "Unfortunately, that's not to be. I will be taking N.E.W.T. level Potions next year." He looked down at Draco rather pompously.

The Slytherin scowled and turned to the girl behind the counter. "Nessa, watch him around the scales. Macmillan's so heavy he might break them. I think you've gained weight over the holiday."

Ernie clenched his jaw and turned back to the counter, feeling Draco's glare burning into his back. "I can come pick up the supplies later today if need be." His tone was clipped and refined, barely restraining the rage incited by Draco's cruelty.

"No, it's fine, I have them here…" Nessa trailed off, eyes fixed on the desk. "That'll be one Galleon and three Sickles, please…"

Draco's voice rang in Ernie's ears when he spoke again, dripping with sarcasm. "Don't bother, Nessa—he can't afford them."

"I can afford them just fine, thank you very much," Ernie seethed, hands clenching into fists.

As he raised his hand to pay for the potion ingredients Draco grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, pressing his wand tip into the Hufflepuff's sternum. "I don't know why you think you're important. The only Hufflepuff in N.E.W.T. Potions, the prefect, aren't you so high and mighty? A right genius, eh?"

"Let go of me!" Ernie tugged away from the Slytherin, but Draco had grasped his robes in one hand, threatening to tear the fabric.

"Let me tell you one thing, oh wise and noble Macmillan. I don't care who you are, I don't even care about how pure your blood is. I don't give a damn about any Macmillan! If you think you can outperform me in Potions next year then you're fooling yourself. My family has known Professor Snape for years, and _I'm_ going to have top marks, not some foolhardy Hufflepuff who thinks he's all that. So don't even try, or I'll have Crabbe and Goyle make short work of you. Do I make myself clear?"

Draco's wand jabbed painfully into Ernie's chest. "Yes, clear." Ernie lowered his head, unable to meet Draco's eyes.

"Good." With a sickly, saccharine smile, Draco placed his wand back in his pocket and started to saunter out of the shop, then stopped and turned around. "Oh, and Ernie? Can I ask a favour of you? I might need some help on my homework this year. You know how difficult classes can be, right?"

Ernie's face beamed an angry red as he glowered at Draco. "Of course," he replied hollowly. With a jaunty wave Draco walked out of the shop and into the crowds of Diagon Alley, vanishing in the sea of robes and pointed hats.

"It's not all bad," Nessa encouraged him as she bundled his ingredients into one large parcel. "I've known Draco for years, and he's all talk. Besides, Hogwarts is getting a new Potions master! Haven't you heard?"

Even this news couldn't raise Ernie's mood as he plodded out of the store, bottles of this and stalks of that in tow. Just when he felt superior, just when he thought he could shake the impression of 'dumb Hufflepuff' forever, Draco Malfoy had appeared and put him in his place.

And he was right, wasn't he? Ernie had only received an 'E' in Potions. He wasn't a genius, and he certainly didn't deserve his spot in the class. Draco had proven that to him easily. Standing up against arguably the most famous pureblood family was a risk he was certainly unwilling to take.

"Pride comes before the fall," he mumbled to himself as he navigated through Diagon Alley, dodging carts and shady-looking amulet dealers. He had been too prideful.

And look how far he had fallen.


End file.
